Friends, Lovers or Nothing
by bloggingwriter
Summary: All about Sherlock, John and Ty, and their adventures occasionally mis-adventures together.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey Guys! Its me again. I know I completely failed with my last fic (Sibling Spats) so here is attempt No.2. Not using the same characters, but a similar idea. Ty Formc (Ty being short for Tylena) is Sherlock's new neighbor, moving into the newly renovated 221C (the basement suite, for those of you unfamiliar with the BBC Sherlock series. But I hope you are, other wise you shouldn't be reading Sherlock fic. Anyways.). She is the former lover of Mycroft (even emotionless politicians like to get some once in a while... Besides, how else would he have confidentley made the reply to Sherlock's "Sex doesn't alarm me" with "how would you know?") Well, now _you_ know. Or will know, to be specific.**

**Anyways. The story is not about Ty and Mycroft. Its about Ty and Sherlock. Yes, Ty did deliberately move into 221C. She has nothing else to do with her time, and knows the younger Holmes to be a bit more active than the older and of the same intellectual level as her, so thinks it would be enjoyable to move into their building and perhaps join Sherlock and John on their cases. The adventures (and sometimes, mis-adventures) will be the main focus of this fic. The relationships may get more intimate (Johnlock/Ty andJohn/Ty and Sherlock) but that is entirely up to the readers.**

**As always, reviews that include relevant critique and praise are appreciated. Hate mail is not. And again (well, only again if you've read "Sibling Spats") please bear in mind that this is now only my second fic, and although it _is_ meant to be canon, there will be a bit of head-canon here and there, just so I can tweak it to my liking.**

**DISCLAIMER DISCLAIMER DISCLAIMER**

**I hope you enjoy.**

**OH! And I should mention that my word program has no spellcheck, so although I search in vain for any spelling/grammatical errors, I may miss some. People who volunteer to be a vicous beta for me will recieve three flats of jam made from kittens, rage and love.**

"Mrs Hudson!" Sherlock called out. No answer. He tried again. And again. And again.

Eventually John yelled at _him_ to shut up, because he was giving him a bloody headache.

"I wish to know who it is that's causing all the ruckus downstairs," he shouted back.

"For God's sake, Sherlock, why can't you do as you normally do and just text me instead of yelling. And if you're really so keen on finding out, be a detective and go detect!" John yelled back, with a few other idea's as to what Sherlock could go do.

The latter ignored the former and decided that he could wait until Mrs. Hudson got back, as she had apparently left the premises.

_(Outside Sherlock's flat)_

A mover walked up to a tall woman in a dark coat with waist length hair, her hair being her only outstanding feature about her.

"Where should I put this, miss?"

She looked up at him from her phone that she was texting on.

"Its written on the box, isn't it?" she replied shortly, and turned away. After being up all night, her tolerance was running rather low.

"I know. But I'm not sure which room you've decided that you'll be using as your bedroom."

She turned to him, incredulous. "There is a room that has a bed in it. That is the bedroom. Now, if you'll excuse me…" she turned away from his, once again, and murmured to herself, "… I have no patience to deal with idiotic adulterers today."

Apparently the mover had no patience today either. "Excuse me, what did you just call me?"

"You are an idiot and you cheat on your wife. My apologies for using four syllable words," she snapped. She knew that the last half, well, really, the whole sentence was unnecessary, and that there was no need to get angry, but it had been a rough month. Year, actually, and all of it came back in a wave with him standing in front of her.

"Well… You… How… How do you know?" The woman rolled her eyes at the fact that he didn't even bother to deny it.

"When you gave me your card yesterday, I saw that the inside of your wallet was full of cash and you had only one credit, hence you don't trust banks, so your wallet is constantly bulging and creates a sizable lump in your back pocket. Today, that lump is much smaller, and as I saw you yesterday _evening_, its unlikely you went out grocery shopping, so obviously you spent a great deal later that evening. But on what? Well, your wedding ring is missing, there are marks on your belt buckle that are the same color and consistency as lipstick, and a receipt from a bar that is rather notorious for its abundance of… escorts. Conclusion: You paid for sex, which makes you an adulterer when you're married; and, from what I can tell, you have a faithful and doting wife, and because you cheated on her that makes you an idiot. Psychological evaluation: aggressively masculine male in dire need of a sound what-for across the face. Now, if you'll _please_ excuse me, I have better things to do with my time, such as taking this call." With that, she spun on her heel, about to stalk away, when she stopped short.

She had turned around to find a rather short, sandy-haired man standing on the stairs leading up to 221B, with his mouth agape.

"Yes?" she asked rather pleasantly, despite the rather vicious telling off she had given her moving-man just moments ago.

"There's more of him?" he asked in a hoarse, whispery voice with an incredulous look on his face.

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about…."

"Oh God! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to say that… out loud. I'm John, by the way," he said, extending his hand with a completely fake smile plastered on his face. Probably to cover up the shock

"Ty Formc. Ty being short for Tylena. Use either, it doesn't matter to me," she smiled back, with an equally fake grin. It was only to be polite, really. It did matter which name he used. She hated her first name, and so shortened it to Ty. Fortunately, most people chose to call her that because they thought it "quaint"

A tall, dark haired man came gracefully barreling down the stairs, "John, what in God's name is all the racket? Where did you put my cigarettes? Oh! And Lestrade called with a new case for us-" he stopped short at the sight of Ty.

"This is Ty Formc, she's moving in, hence the racket; not telling you; and what is this case about?" John replied without batting an eyelash. Must be used to it, Ty though, good for him.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes suspiciously. You could practically see the gears turning. "I know you," he finally stated.

"I know your brother, and he knows me… Rather well, I might add," Ty replied, a tad smugly.

"Well, that would explain why sex doesn't alarm _him._"

"Yes, I think I could claim credit for that," she teased back.

"You two know each other?" John finally broke in.

"Yes," Sherlock answered. Ty was surprised at the mildness of his answer. With other people, a snide remark on their slowness would've practically been an order. Ty smiled to herself as she wondered about the… _extent _of their relationship.

As if he could read her mind, Sherlock immediately said, "No."

John only looked from one to the other, wondering at what had just passed between them, then went back to politely smiling at Ty with a thinly veiled look of amazement on his face. Probably he was trying to decide what was more shocking, Sherlock having a female acquaintance, or Mycroft having sex. Most likely both, Ty (and Sherlock, unbeknownst to her) concluded.

"So, what is this case I heard about?" Ty asked. She needed a distraction from the madness that was, to her, sheer idiocy occurring in her new flat behind her.

"It's a murder…" Sherlock seemed to understand where she was going with this conversation. "I'm not sure it would be of any interest to you."

"But," John quickly interjected, "You could tag along, if you'd like."

Sherlock's, "No, I don't think she would," came at the same time as Ty's "I'd love to!". She grinned wickedly at him.

"Just give me a moment," Ty turned around and yelled to the movers to just leave everything in the living.

She turned back. "Ready when you are."

And it would be a lie to say that she didn't enjoy seeing Sherlock inwardly groan.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hellooooooo again! I have yet to check my stats, so if there is anyone reading this, just know you are loved. However, you would be loved more if you could send me a review *puts on happy hopeful face***

**Ahem. Anyhooooo… Here's Chapter 2, and though I thought of going down the romance route, I figured that being as this is only the 2****nd**** chapter, it might be a bit soon for that. Plus I said in the first chapter that the readers would get to decide on that. However, if by Chapter 4, no one has volunteered any idea's, I'll just go ahead and decide.**

**As always, DISCLAIMER DISCLAIMER DISCLAIMER, and I hope you enjoy.**

**Review please!**

Seven hours and many chases later, Sherlock, John and Ty piled into through the front door of their building. Sherlock motioned for them to be quiet, which was difficult as they were breathing heavily from running so hard, and peeked out the window.

"I think we lost them-oops!" he quickly jerked back and the sound of heavy boots pounding into the ground passed quickly by their door.

John and Ty took deep breaths, but more out of relief now than a lack of air. Ty reached into her pocket and took out an inhaler. Pressing the button on top, she allowed the chemicals to swim around in her esophagus and lungs for a while before taking another breath.

"You have asthma?" John inquired. Ty nodded her head. Most people didn't expect someone like her to have a "geek affliction". As if you had to look and act a certain way in order to have asthma.

"Ever since she was a child," Sherlock added.

"And you know this how?" John asked.

"Because I've known her since I was a child," Sherlock said, before running up the stairs. John and Ty followed.

"You two knew each other since childhood?"

"Yes. I was his first babysitter. He was a holy terror," Ty replied with a grin. "Not for long though."

"Why's that?"

"He trapped me in the cellar on the first day. He didn't expect that I'd be able to get out so quickly, but when I did, I spanked the hell out of him," Ty now had a wide grin on her face at the memory. "A bit hard to do with someone of almost equal size to you who is only a few years younger, but definitely worth the effort. I think he actually respected me after that."

John was laughing so hard that he had to hold the railing and practically drag himself up just to get to the door.

Sherlock on the other hand was pretending not to hear and trying to look nonchalant, but was betrayed by a faint blush creeping across his cheeks.

"If it makes you feel better, I could make you your favorite cookies… That is, if they're still oatmeal-chocolate-chip-raisin," Ty offered to Sherlock. She turned to John. "I made them so many times when we were younger, just to get him to shut up, that I still know the recipe off by heart."

Sherlock held his head high with his nose in the air, "I don't need childish treats to make me feel better. Besides, its not as if we have any of the ingredients."

Ty rolled her eyes, "I could just go downstairs and borrow some from Mrs. Hudson. The old dear loves me, and you, so its unlikely she'd refuse."

"Do as you wish," Sherlock said, and waltzed off to his bedroom, but not before retrieving his laptop.

Ty only smiled and headed down the stairs.

_*****two hours later*****_

"No, no NO! Sherlock! You _don't_ use the electric mixer after you add the chocolate chips and raisins in! Just- SHERLOCK WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Sherlock giggled, as did John, and Ty rolled her eyes, but soon joined in, as well She had bet Sherlock that he wouldn't be able to correctly put together the recipe from just his knowledge of the ingredients, and for every time he messed up, he had to drink one shot of vodka. John decided to join Sherlock's team, and after five mistakes, Ty was bored with being the only sober one, so started doing the shots with them. Needless to say, they were all having a grand time.

"Sherly, Sherly, no, no," she sniggered as John started waving his arms around like an excited child with important. She waved her index finger at John to indicate he should wait and turned back to Sherlock, "Sherly, I really think you should go to bed."

He pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side, as if seriously contemplating this remark, then nodded vigorously.

"Would you like to join me?" he asked mischievously.

"Now, now Sherly, we all know you're ashexshual and married to your work," Ty replied, slurring her words more than a bit.

"Oh riiight! I remember now," he nodded importantly, beaming all over his face.

"Right. Sho, off to bed with you then," Ty turned him around, placing her hands on his back, and shoving. Sherlock promptly fell on his face, which sent John and Ty into fits of laughing. That is, until they noticed he wasn't moving.

Still giggling, Ty got down on her knee's. "Sherlock?" Then after calling his name a few times, she began to worry, as did John.

"Sherlock? Honest to God, if this is some kind of joke I'll beat the living shit out of you. Sherlock?"

John almost instantly sobered up, his inner military doctor kicking in. He began checking Sherlock's pulse and breathing, then sat back on his heels (which didn't work out too well as he was still a bit tipsy from drinking) and said, "He'll be alright. Apparently landing on his face was all it took to knock him out cold after a night of drinking."

They both glance at each other out of the corners of their eyes, and began to snort and giggle. After a few failed attempts to calm themselves down, they gave in to full-blown belly laughs, rolling all over the floor, and laughing their asses off while clutching their stomachs and replaying the image of Sherlock falling on his face over and over in their minds.

Finally, about ten minutes later, they were at least able to stand up with only the occasional giggle, and then John suggested they might try and get Sherlock to the couch, and lie him on his side with a bowl on the floor, beneath his mouth.

"Just so that if he wakes up vomiting, it won't create a mess on the floor that I'll presumably have to clean up."

Ty nodded her agreement, and they proceeded to drag his tall, and surprisingly heavy body over to the couch. The only time they stopped was when they heard a noise.

Freezing in mid-drag, they both stopped to look at each other, when they heard it again, but breathed a sigh of relief when it was realized that it was only Sherlock coming around.

When Sherlock finally blinked his eyes open, Ty asked him if he was alright. He nodded.

"Good. We're going to try and get you to your bedroom, alright?" she asked softly.

He nodded again, and after a few tries, got his footing.

With John under one arm, and Ty beneath the other, the slow progress to Sherlock's room began.

"I'm surprised. You don't seem to be flustered by this rather strange situation we've found ourselves in," John remarked.

"Well, its not the first time I've had to deal with a drunken Sherlock," Ty responded, her voice muffled somewhat by an attempt to turn her head to look at John, and having her face end up in Sherlock's armpit.

"Really? When was the other time?"

"We he broke into his father's liquor cabinet at the age of ten and got drunk as part of, what he called, an 'experiment'."

John shook his head. "Sounds like Sherlock."

"Yeah. Then, when I had to carry him up to bed to sleep it off, he began to explain, in full, the extent of the crush he had on me at the time."

John stopped, nearly letting Sherlock slide off his shoulder as Ty kept walking.

"Sherlock? Having a crush on someone? I think aliens must have replaced his brains somewhere between the age of ten and whenever it is we first met."

Ty laughed, and shook her head. "I think in Sherlock speak, 'crush' means 'respect', or at least, 'you have brains and treat _me_ with respect, ergo I like you'."

"_Excuse me!" Sherlock yelled angrily, "I'm right here!"_

"_So I noticed," Ty responded dryly, and shifted his weight that was causing her shoulders to cramp._

_He huffed, and attempted to walk off, leaning heavily against the wall._

"_You sure you can manage?" Ty called out after him, as he nearly slide onto the floor._

"_I'm perfectly fine!" he shouted back._

"_Right then." Ty turned back to John, "Well, I'm off to bed. See you tomorrow, presumably."_

"_Likewise."_

_At that, they both headed off in different directions, stumbling into hard objects, but eventually making it to their beds._


	3. Chapter 3

**So, to be perfectly honest, writing fic is not at the top of my priority list right now, and I've kind of lost the inspiration, so for the moment, there won't be any more chapters. However, should I get any reviews/comments in the future (*cough cough*) I will do my best to add on another chapter. If you're a writer, I'm sure you'll understand that its a bit difficult to write for a non-responsive audience. And please note, that in the coming chapters, there was going to be an actual plot, murder and all. So it wasn't going to be just fluff. So like I said, should anyone review/comment in the future, I'll seriously consider bumping fic-writing up on my priority list, and try to write a few more chapters. Good critique and praise is always appreciated. Please, be tough, but nice when it comes to critique.**

**So anyhoo, bye for now!**

**-Jess**


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